


Baby Blues

by MeatbunKun



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, Reader is salty, Reader-Insert, She just wants to be a vodka aunt instead plz, and never got to, guess who used to want to do this fake baby thing when they were younger, venting fake baby what-could-have-beens through this fic lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-22 18:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14314137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeatbunKun/pseuds/MeatbunKun
Summary: Your professor's decision to make you responsible for a baby, however fake the little scream machine was, just had to be her cruel punishment for all the crap you put her through this semester. Pairing you with the most energetic guy you've ever had the misfortune of meeting was just the cherry on top of this sundae of suffering. This cherubic, humanoid potato was doomed- and your grade with it.f!reader x Bokuto Koutarou





	1. And Baby Makes Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP reader-chan

~~~~~

 

Strolling into classroom clutching your ridiculously expensive and pretentious coffee wearing blingy, oversized shades- you were the epitome of fashionably late. Especially considering the class started 20 minutes ago and there was a supposedly important announcement the teacher was making today. Safe to say your chill demeanor didn't go over well with your professor because as you flick your gaudy sunglasses up to rest in (h/c) locks, you're on the receiving end of some severe judgement from her.  
  
"So nice of you to finally join us at last (L/n)-san." The sarcasm practically saturates her words as she reluctantly crosses you off on her roll call, brown eyes trained intently on you in some attempt to make you feel guilty. Too bad for her, you're immune to her endeavors and simply raised an indifferent brow right back.  
  
"Sorry about that teach." Your drawling tone borders on disrespect, making the irritated professor bristle even further much to your amusement. "I almost crossed paths with a black cat, so I had to doubleback and take the long way in order to avoid being inflicted with bad luck. You know how it is." Waving lackadaisically, you stumble into your usual seat located at the back of the class and sprawl back in the chair as much as the uncomfortable plastic allows you to. Sipping from your stupidly frothy drink, you tilt your head and amend your statement a little more truthfully, "I also may or may not be a _little_ hungover, so there's that too."  
  
"Mmhmm." She's not impressed by your excuses and while you feel you might come to regret your momentary rudeness....well you never really liked the lady anyways and her class was just as bad, something you were basically dropped in by your advisor because of a mix up involving your credits. So here you were, slightly older than the 18 year old freshies that were your peers, forced to learn about the basics of human health and sex; it was like suffering through middle school all over again. Just with more booze on the weekends.  
  
"I'm afraid you've missed the brunt of my announcement," she doesn't sound very contrite as she smiles rather maliciously for a professor, plopping a solid, (s/c) mass on her desk. Glancing around you notice they're all over the room, cradled in the arms of student pairings, looking a little like....babies.....  
  
"Ohhhh no."  
  
Your dawning look of panic seems to fuel her cruel, sadistic ways because she starts chuckling lowly like some Disney villain reject. "Ohhhh yes. We're partaking in a little project for the next few weeks, though unfortunately your tardiness means everyone's already been assigned their partners..."  
  
Ha, sweet relief.  
  
You shrug and raise your palms as if to say 'what can do you do'. "Aw damn, that's too bad! But its alright, I can live with being a group's vodka aunt, no big deal!" You turn your head to the pair sitting closest to you, "Just so you know, I practice the vodka part of that almost religiously, but don't worry, your little shit will be okay in my care for at least 10 minutes. As long as it doesn't need feeding. Or changing. Or comforting."   
  
"......um."  
  
You pause minutely before shaking your head, "You know, that'll never work. Lets revise it to 5 minutes."  
  
"Don't worry (L/n)-san," and you _really_ don't like that happy look of hers, you definitely worry, you worry _so_ much right now, "there's a silver-lining! You see, without you we have an odd amount of students..." She picks up the baby and begins making her way towards you while you begin edging your chair away from Satan and the demonic spawn, with little to no avail.   
  
"But since you're here, we officially have enough to pair everyone off equally! Say hello to the domestic life (L/n)-san, you've got a husband. Come on over Bokuto-san, introduce yourself to your new wife!"  
  
Now not only is your bubble of personal space being invaded by the teacher you're beginning to loathe more and more as the minutes go by, but that loudmouthed freshman with the weird as hell hairstyle is bounding towards you with an already exhausting amount of energy. No one should look so happy about being forced into marriage and parenthood, it was immoral, frankly. His grin beams at you with all the force of the sun as he waves a beefy arm at you. "Bokuto Koutarou, nice to meetcha (L/n)-san! Though," he adopts a dopey look of consternation, "if we're married, doesn't that technically make you Bokuto-san too?" He perks up like a hyper little puppy, a complete rollercoaster of facial expressions, "Can I call you (F/n)-chan then?"  
  
"Not on your life." Your rejection is quick and delivered in the utmost deadpan you can muster with warring emotions of doom, panic, and the residual hangover swirling around in your head.  
  
"Don't be so cold to your husband Bokuto-chan~" Newfound wicked bitch of the west scolds you, unfairly entertained by the drama unfolding as the rest of your peers watch with baited breath. "Here we go now...Quickest and most painless labor a woman has ever gone through!"  
  
You wouldn't say that, this was beginning to become increasingly painful the more she talked...  
  
Borderline-hysterical laughter escapes you as she shoves the so-called 'precious cargo' into your grasp and suddenly, you have an armful of what looks vaguely like a lumpy potato with arms and legs. Blank, (e/c) eyes gaze unseeingly into your very soul, with the barest amount of wispy, dark hair covering it's oversized cranium and a mindless smile plastered on its tiny, fake face. You stare at it in uncomprehending horror as your teacher drops a sheet of paper in front of you, whatever she continued on saying going in one ear and out the other because all your focus is on your apparent **child** (god, just _thinking_ that was already giving you palpitations).  
  
"Congratulations, (L/n)-san." The devil incarnate had no business sounding so gleeful about your suffering. "It's a boy!"  
  
"Aww, he kinda looks like us, doesn't he?~"  
  
"...."

 

~~~~~  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in college, regardless if this class being a requirement somehow or even existing in college makes no fucking sense or not, shaddup its happening lmao
> 
>  
> 
> ....rip baby-kun too


	2. 'Big Mistake' is Hereby Vetoed as a Name

~~~~~

 

As soon as the professor walks away you pass over the baby as if its a hot potato you need to get rid of, even wiping your hands on your threadbare sweatpants as if to wash off any residual cooties it might have imparted on you in those few seconds you had to stand holding it. Then its the paper she'd left on your desk that hold your attention, so picking them up you skim the typed words.    
  
Scrawling yours and his name on the line designated 'parents' you glance lazily over at your partner and more specifically, your little diapered mongrel. "So what's the fucker's name gonna be? Personally, I vote on 'Big Mistake' but that's just me."   
  
"(F/n)-chan!" He gasps, scandalized, covering the baby's ears as if it could actually hear and understand anything you were saying. He turns away to coo adoringly to it. Creepily, it coos right back because apparently the things made  _sounds_ too. "Don't listen to mama, Koutarou Junior, she's just grumpy from drinking too much of the bubbly last night!"   
  
"....Right." Shrugging you write down Koutarou Junior, not really caring either way as you read on. "We get a limited amount of babysitting passes.....but points docked off for using them. Makes sense, why should parents  _ever_ have any alone time without their mini-me when they could just endure its company 24/7, ugh." Everything else is the basic "don't kill your kid, feed it and clean up its metaphorical shit, blah, blah, blah" so you figure there's no point in staying any longer and it was time to escape.   
  
You push yourself to your feet, tossing your bag over your shoulder as you hold out your phone to Bokuto. "Just hurry up and put your number in here, I'll text you my schedule and then we can figure out how little as possible I have to be involved in this brat's life." As soon as he finishes typing you snatch it back, furrowing a brow at how he'd added himself as 'Hubby' with a plethora of heart and kiss emojis. "Dude...." Giving up on saying anything you just shake your head and shoot him an unenthusiastic pair of finger guns, "So this has been  _fun_ . But I gotta blast. Feel free to give the teach our paper, I bequeath my coffee remains to you, see ya hopefully not soon. Byyyyye husband and unwanted company." Trilling a farewell you give Sonic a run for his money with how fast you make your exit.    
  
(The teacher's mocking "goodbye Bokuto-chan~" follows you like a bad smell.   
  
"That's not going to become a thing!")   
  
Your crocs tread the halls as fast as the tacky shoes allow as you try and gain as much distance as possible before the class follows your footsteps and leave as well.    
  
"Hey (F/n)-chan! Wait up!"   
  
Well.   
  
Mission is a fucking failure, good going James Bond.   
  
You look up to the ceiling in askance of 'why me' as you wait for Bokuto to catch up, the jerk not having the decency to be out of breath after chasing you down when  _you're_ huffing slightly just from walking fast-paced. "Can I help you?" Preferably not.   
  
"Mmm, wellllllll..........." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly before apparently figuring it was better not to prolong the moment and suddenly you have a blue-blanketed parcel thrust in front of your face. "I have practice after this, so sorry (F/n)-chan, but I won't be able to watch Koutarou Junior until after!"   
  
**"What."**   
  
"I'm sorry!" Is his lip wobbling? Jesus, what the fuck. It's like you kicked a puppy or something, you feel a strange pang of guilt.    
  
"Uh.." You reach out hesitantly, patting his shoulder, "There, there....? It's not your fault... _completely_ .....I guess...."   
  
"(F/n)-chan!" And then you're mushed between his thick arms and your face severely close to his pillowy bosom (sure he was kind of annoying, but you weren't  _blind,_ the boy was  _fine_ ) with the baby uncomfortably pressing into your tit as he lifts you with total ease. "Thanks a lot!" For what, you don't know; maybe awkward comforting really did it for him.    
  
"Sure." You were stuck between wanting him to drop you or leaning forward and motorboating his unfairly sized rack.   
  
"I know!" Fortunately (?) he sets you back down, almost jumping in place from how visibly excited he is, "You and Koutarou Junior can watch me- he can see his old man in action and you'll fall in love with me all over again!"   
  
"....Are you delusional?" You squint at him suspiciously. He did know this was all fake and you've known each other personally all for like, 20 minutes...right...?   
  
Either ignoring your mockery or not noticing, he begins to pull you along, "Come on Bokuto's, lets roll out!"   
  
Figuring this was the only solution for being able to be rid of the baby as quick as possible when you inevitably had to watch it, you allow him to drag you off. You had a feeling though, that this could only end badly.   
  
"Seriously, this Bokuto-chan shit is  _not_ going to become a thing...."

 

~~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one kinda sucks lmao, oh well


End file.
